Joe's Picture
Most of us are aware that the first few years of school can matter for a lifetime . We know they are often essential to our success in life and to our self-esteem. Joe's parents were no exception. They saw to it that Joe had a loving and nurturing home life; that his experiences were stimulating and enriching; and that he knew the alphabet and could count to ten. He was indeed ready for first grade.
Joe entered school with great enthusiasm. He like his classmates and they liked him. He liked his teacher and received encouragement from her and from his parents. All signs pointed to success, and yet success eluded Joe.
He had a hard time grasping the rapid pace of his surroundings. Just as he was on the edge of understanding, the teacher moved to another subject or to another hard lesson. By the end of first grade, he was behind many of his classmates and discouraged. His parents hoped summer would bring growth and maturity and second grade would be better.
But it was not, and by the end of the school year the teacher suggested retention, but Joe's parents said no. At the end of third grade, with Joe falling further behind, the principal suggested that Joe should repeat. Again, his parents said no.
Fourth grade started, and Joe was a nervous wreck. he didn't want to go to school. He had suffered through three years at the bottom of the class, and he certainly did not want to be there again. He had heard that fourth was supposed to be a very hard grade. And it was. He struggled every day and studied every night, but he remained at the bottom - until one black, dreary, rainy afternoon.
Teachers have a sixth sense about the weather. Difficult concepts like fractions call for the sunniest of days. The day began that way, but as the teacher started the lesson, a blackness covered the sky, and the downpour set in. Try as she might to keep them working on their math, thunder and lightning won the battle for their attention. Distracted by the storm, the children were not grasping the math. Except for Joe. He understood. He had all the answers correct. She patted him on the back and told him to go around to the others and explain what he had done. Smiling and happy wit his newfound success, Joe moved quickly throughout the room.
As math time ended, the teacher handed each child a sheet of white paper. It was time for art. And all the children did the expected - dark, dreary days always called for dark crayons and dark pictures. And today was no exception. Except for Joe, Joe used bright yellow, orange, and red. A big, bright, glowing sun filled his paper.
Joe started improving and earned his promotion that year. His fourth-grade teacher was curious about the changes in him, and she followed his progress through his high-school years. Why had that one dark and dreary day changed Joe? Who knows what moment a teacher will touch a student?
Joe was not a the top of his class. He did not have to be. He had succeeded and he knew it, and after graduation Joe joined the service and was sent to Vietnam. He did not make it home.
Hearing of Joe's death, the fourth-grade teacher went to his home to pay her respects. Joe's mother welcomed her and told her there was something in Joe's room she wanted to show her. As they entered his room , the mother pointed to Joe's most cherished possession. Hanging on the wall over his bed, neatly matted and framed, was his picture of the big, bright yellow, orange, and red, glowing sun. It celebrated the rainy day when he woke up to his own brightness. At the bottom of his picture, in big capital letters, Joe had printed: This Is The Day I Got Smart.
Phyllis Mabry
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